The Noble Path

By Sonic Jules

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Disclaimer: Doctor Who and the characters of said show do not belong to me, no matter how hard I've wished for it. No infringement meant to the owners and associates, nor BBC.

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A/N #1: Special thanks as always to Catharticone, who takes time from her busy schedule to help, guide, and correct my works on a regular basis.

A/N # 2: Dedicated to pipinheart, who wanted another Donna story. (I hope you and everyone else likes it!).

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Chapter One:

Aging Nobly

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Donna Noble awoke after what felt like too little sleep. She walked into the bathroom with eyes half closed and turned toward the sink, flipping on the light switch absently. She squinted and blinked several times until the sudden brightness was no longer offending. Yawning widely, she flinched at the image of herself in the mirror. Her hair was askew, and a couple of tilts of her head told her she would need to color it again fairly soon.

Looking down a little, she met her own eyes and realized there was leftover mascara smudged beneath them. She wondered how she'd missed that last night, then remembered her quick shower before heading to bed. She'd been very tired. Still was, truth be told.

As she lowered her eyes further, she noticed a distinct white line spreading down from the corner of her mouth. She'd obviously been drooling at some point during the night. No doubt snoring as well, which would explain the sore throat she was experiencing.

Rolling her eyes at her reflection, Donna turned around and sank down on the loo, wincing slightly at her protesting joints as she grabbed a few tissues to blow her nose. Standing then flushing the commode, she stepped back to the sink and turned on the tap, holding a flannel beneath the water until it ran warm. She was was a multi-tasker, already scrubbing her face as she turned off the spigot.

She dabbed a towel across her skin to dry it then once again faced her own image. Touching a few wrinkles on the sides of her eyes, she observed them worriedly as if realizing for the first time they were there. She squinted, watching the lines grow toward the curve of her high cheeks.

Lifting her chin, she slapped the top of a hand against the loose skin beneath her jaw: a second chin, she decided with disgust. Clasping both hands on the rim of the sink, she leaned in closer toward the mirror, scrutinizing her pale features. She sighed deeply.

Whoever came up with the term 'growing old gracefully' obviously owned nothing reflective in which to observe themselves as they aged. Getting old simply sucked, Donna decided.

She turned off the bathroom light then walked to her bed, promptly settling herself back beneath her comforter. Adjusting her pillows comfortably, Donna was asleep again within minutes.

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The Doctor had just finished polishing the center console when it occurred to him that Donna should have been awake by now. He stood still for a few seconds, calculating in his mind exactly how long it had been since she shuffled to her room. Nine hours and forty-two minutes, with a few seconds to spare by his keen cerebration. She usually slept no more than six or seven hours, and he wondered if perhaps she'd had difficulty falling asleep. She had mentioned taking a shower before resting. It was quite possible she had been more alert afterward and had stayed awake reading a book or something, but he doubted it.

They had gone nonstop for a full day, dashing about through the vast wooded area of Caramazu in order to save the kind people of Spragtar.

They'd been successful, of course. But their journey to find the rhu-rhu root deep within the swampy masses had certainly taken its toll on his human companion. She'd looked absolutely exhausted by the time they entered the TARDIS, and had it not been for all the mud and vines and other best-not-mentioned things attached to her body, he had no doubt Donna could have very easily slept on the grating, right there in the console room.

Rubbing absently at an imaginary smear on the computer screen, the Doctor realized neither of them had eaten since their return to the ship. Surely Donna would be famished; he was practically starving. With that thought, he began walking down the corridor to her room, ready to offer her a trip somewhere fabulous for a well-deserved celebratory meal.

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Standing at her closed door, the Doctor knocked lightly. When he heard her answering snore from the other side of the obstacle he frowned, knocking harder.

"Donna?"

Letting himself inside, the Time Lord immediately spoke to his ship, turning the lights up to low before sitting beside the covered lump on the bed. He placed his hand on what he hoped was her shoulder. "Donna."

"What?" She shot straight up, clearly surprised as she scowled at the Doctor. "Oi! What're you doin' in here? Ever heard of knockin'?" she practically growled.

He looked at her thoughtfully. "I did knock. Called to you as well." He looked at her closely. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you know what time it is?"

"Mornin', I'd assume."

"Barely," the Doctor agreed.

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "What're you goin' on about then?"

He stared at her a few moments before a grin spread across his face. "I'm hungry. Thought you might be as well."

"Oh?" She seemed to brighten a bit. "As a matter of fact, I am. What do you have in mind?"

The Doctor stood quickly. "You get dressed, I'll go set the coordinates, and you'll find out," he spoke, heading toward her bedroom door.

"Deal," she responded enthusiastically.

When her door closed, the smiled dropped from Donna's face as she unwrapped herself from the tangled sheet and blanket surrounding her. She stood, sighing deeply as the ache within her joints protested her movement. They really had run long and hard yesterday, and she could feel every step right now.

Walking into her bathroom, she squinted at her fuzzy image. A few blinks of her eyes seemed to clear the blur, but then she saw her face and frowned. She brushed her teeth, eyes avoiding her reflection for a little while.

When she faced the mirror again, Donna quickly applied her make up a little heavier than usual. Her joints ached a bit more as she got dressed, so she took a couple of Paracetamol. Letting her hair down for the outing, she hoped the Doctor wouldn't comment on how worn out she really felt and probably appeared.

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To be continued...

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